


True Love

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Space: Above and Beyond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-08-09
Updated: 2001-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-18 06:28:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	True Love

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

True Love by KarenK

_True Love_

By KarenK 

A _Space Above and Beyond_ fanfic 

**Status:** unfinished 

* * *

**PART 1**

Colonel Ty McQueen sat at the drink nursing his drink and wondered why he'd bothered to come. It was just a bunch of paper pushers trying to tell him how to do his job again. 

"Hello." He looked up and saw a young woman with curly chestnut hair flowing down over her shoulders. "Is this seat taken?" she asked. 

"No," he answered and motioned for her to sit. 

"Karen Roarke, and you are?" He shook her offered hand. 

"Ty McQueen." 

"Marine huh?" his eyes widened slightly. 

"Do I look that obvious?" 

"Only to me. I'm from a Marine family and we can tell our own kind at fifty paces." 

McQueen laughed. They spent the rest of the evening talking and for whatever reason, McQueen told her his whole life story. He started at being born In Vitro and finished with his current posting aboard the Saratoga and with the 58th. He found Karen Roarke to be an insightful and intelligent woman. They spent the remainder of the week talking and thoroughly enjoying each other's company. 

  
Ty had agreed to be her date for the party that evening, he wondered why he was fussing with his dress uniform. Why did he want to make a good impression on a woman he'd only known a week? When he knocked she called out for him to enter; he entered the room and stopped, stunned at what he saw. 

Roarke wore a cape over a flowing gown that fell to her ankles and was held by a silver clasp at her throat. The gown was cut low in front and shimmered when she moved. The shimmering attracted his eyes to her body's curving lines. "I'll be ready in a minute," she said. 

"No hurry." He was enjoying the view; the way she walked was graceful and elegant. She took his arm and they strolled along to the party. 

The evening was enjoyable until McQueen noticed some men. There was something that wasn't quite right about the men in question, but he couldn't place what it was. He saw the pistols as the men pulled them out and grabbed Roarke. There was screaming as the men fired off the pistols in the air. Her eyes met his but saw no fear in her eyes, only courage. His assessment of her went up a notch as he pulled her closer to him. 

A spokesman for the men declared that they were now all hostages and that if they behaved they would be released unharmed. The party guests were rounded up and placed in one section of the room. "We've got to do something!" Roarke whispered to McQueen. 

"We will, but for now it's best to stay put." 

"I understand, I'll follow your lead." McQueen's assessment of her shot up another couple of notches. McQueen noticed that one of the men was eyeing Roarke and began to regret bringing her to the party. Her beauty attracted attention even from thugs who could be trouble. One of them walked over and grabbed her arm dragging her up. 

"Leave her alone!" demanded McQueen as he rose. The thug struck him across the face with his pistol and Roarke landed a blow into the thug's stomach. 

"Leave him alone!" She raced over to McQueen; as she checked his injuries she was glad to see it was only a split lip and some bruising. The thug grabbed her again. "Leave me alone Fred Flintstone!" she hissed at him. 

"Let her go," said a cold and deadly voice, stopping McQueen in his tracks. The thug turned to face the speaker and fear briefly flickered in his eyes as he let her go. Roarke rubbed her wrist as she assessed the man who had scared the thug. He was tall and good-looking for a creep, his shaggy brown hair and blue eyes were an asset to his innocent looking face. "Is your friend all right?" he asked and offered a hand to McQueen. 

McQueen accepted it grudgingly. "I'm fine," he answered as he stood. 

"Here," the man threw his jacket at Roarke. "You'd better cover up before someone else gets any ideas. 

"Thanks," she said as she drew the jacket on and then took McQueen's arm and helped him back to the others. Roarke stuck her hands into the pockets of the jacket as she sat down next to McQueen. Her eyes widened slightly at the pistols that she felt in the pockets of the jacket. Her eyes rose and she met the eyes of the man who'd rescued her. 

He winked at her as if to tell her he realized that she'd found his gift. She looked around and then quietly slid one of the pistols out of the jacket's pocket and slid it into McQueen's hand. His eyes widened slightly in surprise but he said nothing as he quickly hid the pistol in his dress blues. "I've got an idea," she whispered to him and then she stood up. "Hey, Quasimodo, when does a girl get to use the bathroom?" 

"Roarke!" McQueen hissed, not liking the attention she was drawing to herself. 

"I know what I'm doing, Ty," she whispered in response. 

"I'd like to teach you a lesson in manners," replied the thug who'd roughed her up earlier. 

"For that you'll have to take a lesson yourself, but first you'll have to learn to read, Chig breath," she answered in a challenging tone. The man who had rescued her stepped in front of the other man. 

"I'll take her," was all he said. He headed over to her and grasped her arm as he led her out of the room. As soon as he thought they were far enough away from the room he drew her roughly around to face him. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" he asked angrily. 

"Why are you helping?" she spit back just as angrily. 

"Let's just say I have a soft spot for mouthy brunettes." He smiled mischievously at her. He grabbed Roarke's skirt and started to draw it upward, she slapped him hard enough to leave her hand's imprint on his cheek. He dropped her skirt and grabbed her hand. "You can't crawl around in the air vents with a skirt like that." 

"Why would I want to crawl around inside the air vents?" 

"Because you have to reach my contact on the outside and tell him everything. Then you have to come back." 

"Why would I come back once I get out of here?" she asked sarcastically. 

"Because you're not the type to leave innocents behind. Especially not if one of them is a certain Marine you're in love with." 

She opened her mouth to argue, but instead she took off her shoes, hiked up her skirt and shoved it angrily into her belt. "Where is this vent?" 

"Right over here," he answered and led her to the vent. "My contact is my brother, Michael McQueen, tell him Jake sent you." He helped her into the vent and following the map he'd given her, found her way out. As she reached the outside and started to climb out of the vent she felt someone start to help her. Roarke landed in the arms of a young black man wearing steel rimmed glasses. 

"Marshal Michael McQueen ma'am," he introduced himself. 

  
McQueen started to fidget; he was getting nervous at how long Karen had been gone. He noticed the men that held them hostage were also beginning to notice it too. She arrived moments later and was thrust into McQueen's arms. There was a gleam in her eyes that puzzled and concerned him. "Are you okay?' he asked. 

"Just fine," she answered and looked around before leaning in close to McQueen. "You've got family here McQueen," she quipped, she laughed at his puzzled look. "The guy who helped me is named Jake McQueen, and he's a U.S. Marshal. His big brother, Michael, is waiting outside with a bunch of friends waiting to strike. " 

Before she could say anything more, the sounds of shooting sounded outside. "You! You're the one!" said the rude thug as he raised his pistol towards Roarke. McQueen threw his body over hers as he reached into his uniform for the pistol she'd given him earlier. He felt a tearing pain as a bullet struck him in the side but he ignored the pain as he drew his pistol; turning, he fired. He felt satisfaction at the surprised look on the face of the thug as he went down with a gaping hole in his chest. 

  
"Well, Colonel, you're a lucky man, a few inches either way and it would have been a different story. As it is it just took a little meat and I believe that there is a young lady waiting outside who will be very relieved at that news." The doctor went to the door and opened it. Roarke came in with a concerned look. "You can take him home but be gentle with him for a few days," the doctor smiled warmly at her before leaving. 

"Hey, Sir Lancelot, you had me worried." 

He smiled. "I had myself worried there for a bit." He started to draw his shirt on and winced. 

"Do you have to put your shirt on?" she asked mischievously and ran her hands over his chest. 

"Karen?" She placed a finger on his lips silencing him and then leaned in and kissed him passionately. McQueen responded to the heat in her kiss for a moment before gently pushing her away. "Maybe you'd better help me to my quarters." 

"Love to, Colonel." 

  
They arrived at McQueen's quarters and he drew her into his arms. Roarke felt McQueen's breath brush against her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her. His hands slid beneath her hair as his mouth came down on her neck and gently nuzzled it. She reached blindly for him as she pressed closer to him. She felt the beat of his heart beneath her fingertips as her fingers splayed across his chest. 

"Ty," she said in a gasp as McQueen slid her blouse off and tossed it aside. His lips brushed hers as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her over to the bed. 

  
McQueen awoke with a jerk and his quickly reached for Roarke, and found only empty bed. Where she had lain, the bed was cool so he could tell that she'd been gone for a while. He got up and quickly dressed with every intention of finding her and asking her what was going on. He found her at the observation lounge staring out at the sunrise. 

An unreasoning rage overtook him at the fact that she was well and had obviously left of her own accord. "Karen!" he grasped her shoulder and spun her to face him as he fought to keep his temper in check. 

"Ty?" she asked, puzzled by his behavior. 

"Did you enjoy your evening with a tank!" he asked sarcastically. 

She slapped him hard and McQueen was surprised at the rage he saw in her eyes. "How dare you! I was with Ty McQueen! Not a tank, and if you can't believe that, it's your problem!" she replied angrily. 

He realized how wrong he'd been when he saw her honest emotional response to his innuendo. "Karen...." he began. 

"I don't want to hear it!" She angrily stalked away. 

McQueen kicked himself for jumping to conclusions and went after her. By the time he got to the hallway though, she had vanished. 

  
McQueen returned to the Saratoga, hoping that by throwing himself into his work he'd forget Roarke. For a month, that's exactly what he did but it didn't make a bit of difference as each night he dreamed of her. He still missed Roarke and kicked himself for being a fool. He had been so used to prejudice that he reacted and then thought. 

"Colonel?" McQueen looked up into the worried blue eyes of Lieutenant Cooper Hawkes. Hawkes was an In Vitro like McQueen and had become a special project of McQueen's. The members of the 58th were like the children he'd always wanted but he'd never had. Hawkes had joined the Marine Corp because it was either that or jail. When he had joined the 58th he'd been a very angry young man but in his time with the 58th he had matured into a fine young officer. Each member of the 58th had become like family to each other. 

"What is it Hawkes?" He winced at how sharply it had come out. 

"Colonel, are you okay?" McQueen looked into Hawkes' baby face and quickly wondered if he'd ever been that young. 

He sighed. "Yes, Hawkes, I'm fine, just a bit tired." 

"It's just that you've been different since your return from the Bellias colony, sir. We were worried that there was something wrong." 

McQueen started to answer but was interrupted by a summons from the bridge. He answered the summons and then turned back to Hawkes. "I'm okay, and you can take that message back to your teammates." He patted Hawkes consolingly on the shoulder before heading up to the bridge. 

  
Commodore Glen Ross put aside his guitar as McQueen entered his office. "Ty, glad you could make it," he quipped. McQueen gave him a look that clearly stated he wasn't in any mood for humor. Ross tossed a file across the desk towards McQueen. McQueen picked it up and began to read it. "It seems as if a black ops team got their asses in a sling. The 58th is going in to pull them out,' said Ross. 

"So a bunch of sorry play-soldiers get themselves and their toys broken and my team gets to sweep up the debris." 

Ross looked at McQueen puzzled. "Ty, are you okay?" 

McQueen slammed the file down on Ross desk. "Yes, damn it!" he answered, exasperated. McQueen saw Ross's disbelieving look. "Okay, okay, I'll spill." Ross knew that McQueen wasn't exactly the sharing type so obviously he was really bothered by whatever it was. McQueen filled Ross in on everything that had happened at the Bellias colony. 

"She sounds like one hell of a woman," said Ross. He broke into his private stash and brought out two glasses with a bottle of two hundred year old bourbon. He placed a glass in front of McQueen and poured. "To amazing women." 

He raised his glass and McQueen clinked his glass to Ross's. "The banes of our existence, but what a fun way to live." 

Ross smiled as he took a swig of bourbon. "That's smooth." 

"Smooth, it's pure silk," answered McQueen. 

"Did you try to find her?" 

"Yeah but no one seems to be able to tell me anything about her. I finally meet the woman I could spend the rest of my life with and what do I do? Open mouth and insert foot. Hell, I'm chewing on my hip." 

Ross laughed. "I've met a few of that kind of woman. They're dangerous because a man forgets to think around them." 

McQueen finished his drink. "I'd better get started on a plan for the extraction." He stood and left without a word. 

* * *

The 58th filed into the briefing room and took their seats. McQueen entered with bloodshot eyes and a five o'clock shadow. He had a hard time thinking clearly so he had been up all night working on the extraction plan. "All right ladies and gents, we have an extraction on the planet Kyra. It seems as if a black ops team screwed up and we have to pull them out." McQueen filled the 58th in on his extraction plan for the mission. 

After the briefing, McQueen and the 58th suited up in the landing bay. "Ty, you look exhausted, are you sure...." Ross began. 

"I can handle it." Ross knew that trying to talk to McQueen about something he didn't want to was about as productive as talking to a wall. He watched as McQueen and the 58th left and offered up a silent prayer. 

McQueen took the lead and the 58th followed as they rapidly covered the ground to the depot. When they arrived at the depot, McQueen and the 58th entered it. He sent the 58th in a standard search pattern for any survivors. "Since there has been no radio contact for over twenty-four hours, be careful. The Chigs could have overrun the depot. West, Wang, take the right corridor. Vansen, take Damphousse and head down the left corridor. Hawkes and I will take the center corridor and we'll meet back here in an hour." 

McQueen glanced into the rooms for the crew of the depot as they walked down the corridor. The hair on the back of his neck prickled, there hadn't been any strange sight or sound yet he felt uneasy. He turned the corner and saw bodies strewn about the corridor in various positions. He heard a noise as Hawkes stepped forward and he looked down. Hawkes had stepped into a puddle of blood; the smell of fresh blood was all around them. Hawkes stepped back out of the puddle, but his boots were already covered in blood. McQueen pulled out his communicator and ordered the others to his position. 

McQueen's head jerked up when he heard a noise. It had been weak, but he'd been positive it had been a groan. "Hawkes, check the bodies on that side. Someone here is still alive!" McQueen checked those on his side and finally came to a small individual lying on the floor with its head resting against the wall. He found a pulse and began to check for injuries. The woman, although it was hard to tell under all the bruises and blood, was seriously injured. 

He brushed aside her hair to check her face and head for injuries. "Roarke!" he gasped. "Hawkes, call for a medic immediately!" he ordered as the other members of the 58th arrived with a couple of the depot's injured crew. 

* * *

© 2001   
Please send comments to the author! 

08/09/2001 

* * *


End file.
